Neighbourly concerns

The market for villas and townhouses must be looking up in my neighbourhood. People are moving into units which had been empty for a year or two since construction. At the same time, redevelopment notices are starting to appear in front of shabby little fibro cottages on big blocks – of which there's no shortage around Woy Woy.

The other day, we received notice of a plan to demolish the little place next door to build two big villas.

Not long after, a near-neighbour popped a letter into our box. Would we support her objection to the redevelopment because it would take out a magnificent jacaranda tree? We replied by email:

We read your note with mixed feelings. We have lived here for 35 years, and it's where we brought up our four children.

We will be sad to see the removal of the big jacaranda next door. It was well grown when we moved in here.

We know you were fascinated as you watched a pair of currawongs raise three offspring in it last year. We'd been wondering whether we'd see the same this year, but it seems that won't happen now.

However, we went on to say:

So you can see we have an attachment to the old trees. But it would not be in our best interests to support heritage orders preventing their removal.

Ian is almost 71 and Merry turns 68 this month. We have no plans to move, but ill health or an inability to maintain the garden could force us to do so. Perhaps it will be in a few years, perhaps it would be another decade. When we have to move, we too will expect to receive a price which reflects the redevelopment potential of our block – and a tree preservation order would diminish that value.

The quality of the final years of our lives may depend on the price we receive.

Please do not take offence at our refusal to support you.

In reply, our near-neighbour emailed:

Thanks very much for your reply. I totally understand your situation.

I will be lodging a complaint on my own behalf as I love looking out at the jacaranda tree when I am at the kitchen sink, in my dining room, or just passing through my villa. It's actually my only view
because of the high colorbond fence. I love the way the sun reflects on the leaves, and of course I love watching the currawongs in spring. It's one of the reasons I purchased my villa.

Unfortunately too many trees have been removed in Woy Woy in recent years, and I would prefer that this one stays.

After such a polite exchange of views, Merry and I didn't have the heart to tell her about the tree which once grew where her villa now stands.

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Asylum seekers prove their worth

Those of you who believe Old Grumpy is a bleeding-heart leftie – too soft to take a sensible line on matters of national importance – well, here's where you may find evidence to reinforce your view.

I believe most of those asylum seekers who turn up at Ashmore Reef or Christmas Island on leaky boats, especially those who've brought their families, have shown fitness to live in Australia and eventually become citizens.

Think of it this way. You own a business, and you need to fill a staff vacancy. You place a small ad – and in these difficult times, more than 300 people send you their CV. You and your secretary spend a couple of days working through them.

Nearly all would be worth a trial, but you narrow the list to several dozen applicants. Your secretary sends out emails inviting the short-listed hopefuls in for interviews.

A day later, before the interviews have begun, it's a nice day, so you take sandwiches down to the park.

A fellow comes up to you, introduces himself, apologises for intruding on your time, and – to your irritation – sits down and starts talking about your business. It's clear he's done some research, and he says he'd like to be part of your operation. He describes his education and skills and how he could use them to advance your business. He impresses you.

You do feel a bit guilty. He is, after all, a queue jumper. And you feel a bit sorry for all those people who've done it by the book when they lodged their applications.

But when you think about it, in your business you've got more than enough people who do their jobs by the book – conscientious plodders who perform well but have no zest and contribute no new ideas.

---oooOOOooo---

Old Grumpy spent more than thirty years commuting from Woy Woy to Central. Often our train would leave Woy Woy overcrowded, and it was such a relief to reach Hornsby and see so many passengers get out.

The Central Coast commuters would spread themselves out, and the women would go back to their intense study of New Idea and Woman's Day.

But then we'd pull into Epping or Eastwood, and a crush of new passengers would push into the carriages. The Central Coast people would mutter a bit, move closer together and resume their reading or snoozing.

Today, Old Grumpy is ashamed to admit a touch of racism. All those Asian faces crowding on to our Intercity train. Dammit, we provide a perfectly good suburban train system for people from the suburbs.

But I had to note that many of the young people who'd just joined us would pull out university notes, while some of the adults opened briefcases and worked on business papers. In later years, laptops came out and people worked on spreadsheets.

I thought then – and I still think – that these people with non-Anglo faces represent much of the future of Australia, a future in which a complacent “Lucky Country” will need their ambition and skills, their desire to make a better life for their families, to compete against emerging Asian economies.

[My contrast of “old Australians” snoozing or reading New Idea against “new Australians” full of drive and ambition may have a touch of caricature, but not enough to make my argument invalid.]

---oooOOOooo---

I wrote the sections above last night, but decided to think about them overnight before posting them to the blog. This morning [Tuesday] I checked the Sydney Morning Herald online, and come across Gerard Henderson's comment containing these thoughts:

There has been a world-wide increase in asylum seekers. Even so, in view of the acute risks involved in attempting to enter Australia in small boats, it seems that such trips are likely to be undertaken if the chances of success are seen to have increased.

The intensity of the debate is such that there is not much room for rationality at either extreme.

Contrary to what many refugee advocates proclaim, not all asylum seekers are refugees, not all tell the truth and not all are secular saints.

Contrary to what many of those who are hostile to them believe, asylum seekers are not security threats and most who gain refugee status become hard working and entrepreneurial citizens. Anyone who has the ingenuity to make it here - by sea or air - has a skills set which adapts well to a multicultural migrant community such as Australia. [Bold type is my emphasis – GOJ]

Exactly. Just what I'm trying to say. Perhaps I'm not such a bleeding heart after all.

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Hard times and easy marks

If you have elderly relatives living in Woy Woy – is there anyone who hasn't? – it might be time to give the old dears a ring. While you're chatting about petunias and bowls, casually ask if anyone they know is considering a “business plan” which promises to turn $180 into $70,000 in a couple of months.

Chain letters are back. Perhaps they thrive in bleak economic times, with more people eager to suspend normal scepticism and accept any proposition which offers to deliver them from the squeeze of diminishing nest eggs and rising household bills.

This one (partly reproduced above, with the five-cent coin sticky-taped to the top) turned up in my letterbox the other day. With no markings on the envelope, it probably was hand-delivered. This suggests hundreds of other households in Woy Woy, and perhaps more widely around the Central Coast, are now receiving the same scam letter.

It is a scam. Throw it out. If your oldies in Woy Woy have received it and not done so, you may need to explain why it's a scam.

And even if you concede the authors appear reasonable and honest – philanthropic, even – you should be able to explain why the scheme just cannot work.

I spent a bit of time browsing the internet to find something which explains clearly, in plain language, why such chain letters will end in disappointment.

I came across many pages explaining they're illegal, they're scams, they probably come from conmen, and you should throw them out.

Of the many pages from government consumer protection agencies, this one from the Australian Competition & Consumer Commission seems as good as any.

But the government warnings still have a Big Brotherish feel ("I'm from the government, trust me and do what I say"). They fail to explain why the chain letter cannot work beyond a few early rounds (although this US page may help).

The letter which turned up in my box is a basic, unadorned chain letter. In the middle of a superbly drafted spiel, you see a grid with five handwritten names and addresses, ranked one to five.

The letter urges the recipient to send a $10 banknote to the person named on the top line. Then strike out that name, move the others up a notch, and put your name on the fifth line.

Make at least 200 photocopies – not forgetting to affix a five-cent coin to the top of each front page – then mail or distribute them to names taken from a phone book. Here's what should happen, according to the chain letter:

HOW THE SYSTEM WORKS IN 60 DAYS

You have sent your $10 note and mailed at least 200 letters. Your details are printed at number 5 position on each of them. Your work is done - sit back and relax, you deserve it!
If only 3% of 200 people respond to your letter, then 6 people will mail 200 letters =1200 letters with your name and address at position number 4.
If only 3% of 1200 people respond to your letter, then 36 people will mail 200 letters =7200 letters with your name and address at position number 3.
If only 3% of 7200 people respond to your letter, then 216 people will mail 200 letters =43,200 letters with your name and address at position number 2.
If only 3% of 43,200 people respond to your letter, then 1296 people will mail 200 letters =259,200 letters with your name and address at position number 1.
If only 3% of 259,200 people respond to your letter then 7,776 people will send you $10, your
name and address in the receiver position at number 1 [sic]. You will therefore receive $77,760 in $10 notes!
If the response rate is more than 3% of people send more than 200 letters, you will receive even more!

You could ask your oldies whether they understand geometric progression, or exponential growth. (If they do, you shouldn't have to explain why a chain letter cannot work for long!)

If they don't, you could point to the final pars of “How the system works . . .”

If 7776 people each send you $10, each of those 7776 people will expect to reach No 1 themselves after four more rounds, when each of those 7776 people will expect about 7776 people to send them $10.

At that point, more than 60 million people [7776 x 7776 = 60,466,176] should each be stuffing a $10 note into an envelope and sending it on. And that's not accounting for the thousands of $10 notes harvested by other names as they rise to the top, and those raked in by any other chain letter doing the rounds.

What was the population of Australia, again?

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Old and new, cultures meet in a schools festival

Multiculturalism's big day in Woy Woy! It comes together next Tuesday at the Brisbane Water Secondary College senior campus (formerly Woy Woy High School), with three main components:

• End-of-year reports and awards from the Yarn Up project, in which indigenous people people guide primary and secondary students from Woy Woy peninsula schools through their country, and explain the first Australians' relationship to it.


• A visit by Uluru elder Uncle Bob Randall (pictured above) and filmmaker Melanie Hogan, producers of the film Kanyini, which was used to stimulate understanding and discussion at the start of the Yarn Up project.


• Ten students and five teachers from Granville Boys High School – a school well endowed with ethnic cultures – will complete a two-day walk raising funds for prostate cancer research.

When I watched the 53 minutes of Kanyini last April, it hit my emotional buttons so strongly I feared my comments would be over the top. But I've just re-read my April 8 post, Kanyini – understanding Aboriginal culture, and I wouldn't change a word.

In a letter seeking sponsorships, Granville Boys High School captain and vice captain Berhan and Dean Kassem said:

Our school reputation in not good at the moment and we want to change this. This reputation is portrayed throughout the media and is not accurate. We know that this image is created by such a small number of students but it affects all of us.

To improve the image of our school and to let the community know that there are many great students at Granville Boys High School we have organised a WALK FOR CHARITY event.

At the Woy Woy school, the Granville boys will perform an Arabic drumming routine and a Pacific Island dance. You may learn more from their post on EverydayHero.

Here on our Woy Woy peninsula, Yarn Up is a worthwhile project, and I expect to learn on Tuesday just how successful it has been.

With plenty of activities, plus a sausage sizzle, the festivities begin at noon next Tuesday, December 16. I understand visitors will be welcome. If you'd like to come along, call Steve Collins at 02 4341 1899 or Jo MacGregor at 02 4341 1600 by this Friday, December 12. I'm told the best entrance will be from Greene St.

Does Woy Woy really need ten more ducks?

The scene: Woy Woy, not too long after dawn. Cars fly along North Burge Road and Brick Wharf Road, near the waterfront. The commuters know there's no time to be lost – for every few minutes' delay, they'll have to park all that much further from the railway station.

Then suddenly, everything freezes. Brake lights go on and off as drivers try to creep forward, but there's little point. Ducks are wandering along the road, many with a string of ducklings scurrying to keep up.

If you blow your horn, the ducks just stop and look at you.

Woy Woy has no shortage of ducks. Even a busy local magazine and web publishing company calls itself Ducks Crossing.

So how does your grumpy old blogger explain the ten little ducklings running round and round the mulberry tree, thwarting his best efforts to take a reasonable photo. Well, we'd had this Khaki Campbell drake for a while to keep the snails down and Merry thought he looked lonely.

Off to a poultry auction somewhere in the backblocks of Wyee, and we came home with the bird you see above – it's a Muscovy, albeit with a lot of black feathers with a greenish sheen.

After a while, she was sitting on eggs in a nest tucked behind a sheet of corrugated iron. For five weeks she sat, until the other day she emerged with ten little ducklings.

She a great little mother, wonderfully protective, is our Momma Duck. But alas, she can never be Nanna Duck from this brood.

She may look like a duck and act like a duck – indeed, she may think she's a duck – but she's really a goose. So our little ducklings are "mules", unable to have progency themselves, as this NSW Dept of Primary Industry advice makes clear.

Still, they beat painted concrete gnomes as a garden ornament. Just separate them from newly planted seedlings.

But ten of them! They'd look delightful on a hobby farm dam. Any offers?

I think it's English, but what does it say?

My day brightens when Google Blogger emails me: "[Someone] has left a new comment on your post [whatever it was]". It doesn't happen all that often.

So I snapped to attention this morning when I saw this in my Inbox:

smithsan has left a new comment on your post "Indigenous care for indigenous people":

A critical multicultural approach situates cultural differences within the wider nexus of power relations, and helps overcome the negative stereotyping that often prevents inclusive, self-determined care. Recommendations are suggested for change at the societal, professional and individual level.
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smithsan
exposure marketing

I think it's English, but what does it say? It looks like the gibberish one has to regurgitate to score a PhD in, say, gender studies or Eng. Lit. or journalism.

Is someone having a go at me? In my post on indigenous care, I turned away from the term "cultural sensitivity" because I don't think abstractions win arguments, and there's one argument I do want to win.

I believe some white Australians still believe indigenous people are racially inferior. They'd deny it, or rationalise it away, if asked. But they still believe in paternalism, and in an intervention which fails to consult the indigenous people they believe they are helping.

In the previous post, I chose to use a number of concrete examples, brutally expressed, to explain why too many indigenous people now find themselves in an underclass. Not all Aboriginal people experienced every type of discrimination, of course, but many encountered some of those listed. That's too many.

And that's a major reason Aboriginal people are over-represented in poorer socio-economic groups.

I'm still puzzled by "smithsan" and the comment. Clicking on the name brings up a Google Blogger profile page, but it contains no profile. Unusual.

Clicking on the link provided suggests an answer. "Exposure marketing" takes you to http://www.drivenwide.com/. And what do we find? It's an internet marketing service, and clicking "what we do" in the navigation bar takes you to a page which says Driven Wide offers social media optimisation and marketing, search engine marketing and optimisation, and social marketing.

Sadly, this grumpy old blogger must concede it's unlikely his arguments have won the heart and mind of "smithsan", whoever or whatever that is.

It more likely "smithsan's" comment was computer-generated after a search engine picked up some key words in my post's labels, and its purpose was to publicise an internet marketing service.

It's interesting the program was able to find a passage like "critical multicultural approach" to post as a comment, but it just shows what computers can do these days.

For a long time, I've though of studying Search Engine Optimisation. Grumpy Old Journo sure could use it, and if ever I tried to return to the paid workforce, I could try for one of those high salaries SEO experts can obtain.

--ooOOoo--

I did appreciate some praise "Woy Woy Steve" attached to my October 27 post about the Putt Putt regatta. From his profile, it seems Steve may have attended Woy Woy High School (now the Brisbane Water Secondary College senior campus) at the same time as some of my offspring.

A self-taught web designer, Steve has put up a first-class website, http://www.woy-woy.com/. I found its local history pages well-researched and interesting.

And while you're looking at all things Woy, you may also be interested in a site offered by Spike. Here's one of his blogs .

Indigenous care for indigenous people

It's been around our region for 21 years, but I'd never heard of Daramulen Home Care until the other day when Kirsty Bissaker came to our monthly Central Coast Reconciliation Group meeting to tell us about this specialist service for Aboriginal people.

Ms Bissaker, the acting service co-ordinator, explained that Daramulen's clients are mostly elderly, some are children with disabilities, and about 20 per cent are adults aged 25 to 40.

Staffed by indigenous people, Daramulen operates alongside the government organisation which provides home care in the wider community. But it offers more for its indigenous clients – help with housework, social get-togethers called “yarn-ups”, and the extra benefits which come from the carers' cultural sensitivity.

Impressive. So I asked Ms Bissaker: “If Kevin Rudd gave you some of this money he's splashing around, what would you spend it on? What's your biggest need?”

She didn't hesitate. “Medical transport.” With low incomes, without cars, and often living in areas poorly served by public transport, her clients face real hardship if, for example, they must get from their homes to a medical centre three times a week. Adding to the problems of disabilities and infirmity, some clients are illiterate and find it hard to access those services which do exist.

The following are my comments, not those of Ms Bissaker (although I hope she'd agree). Sometimes people ask me why we should provide special social services for indigenous people. Surely we're all Australians, and if we're in need there should be no discrimination.

You might assume the whitefellas who ask this question are rednecks, but often they are not, and they deserve a considered reply.

Cultural sensitivity? Well, that's true – but we're not going to win hearts and minds if we argue in abstractions. Here are the answers I give:

• If you're fifty or over, and you went to the flicks in many country towns, you'll remember when indigenous customers sat up front on wooden benches.


• Even if some of your playmates were Aboriginal kids from down the road, they'd often be barred from joining you in the swimming pool. That exclusion generally held firm until after the 1965 Freedom Ride through outback New South Wales.


• In country towns in NSW, and probably elsewhere in Australia, whites had a “local option” to exclude indigenous pupils from government schools. For example, when European settlers in the Manning Valley finally pushed the indigenous owners off their land and resettled many of them on a mission, the good people of Taree asked the government to bar the children from their schools, and the government set up the Purfleet Aboriginal Provisional School. Up and down the coast, in towns like Kempsey, or inland, in towns like Walgett, the story was the same.


• What would you say if your Dad came home from the war in 1945 and tried to put his name down for a soldier settler block, only to be told “abos” weren't eligible?


• And try to imagine this. You're playing with your friends, when Mum starts shouting, “Git! Git! Git outta here fast.” As rehearsed, you run for the bush or down into the creek bed. You peek through the scrub, see a couple of cars pull up, and some whitefellas stride into your homes. When you creep back, your sister is gone. Your Mum and your aunties are inconsolable in their grief.

All of these things happened within my lifetime, and therefore within the lifetimes of some of Daramulen's clients.

It's no reflection on indigenous people to say such experiences turned too many into an underclass – people who cannot assert themselves at school interviews, or know how to dispute local council rulings, or negotiate their way through our complex and overstressed health system. People who may be functionally illiterate after rudimentary education in mission schools.

Today, one can see rapid improvement in the pride and achievement of Aboriginal Australians. And while most do appeciate the goodwill and efforts of whitefella friends, it's clear much of the credit should go to indigenous workers and organisations who understand the special needs of their people.